All they Wanted
by AdmitULuvMe
Summary: All they wanted was a child. But for two men, it wasn't that easy. This story follows the life of Ron and Harry after the war. HR
1. All They Wanted

**So this story has been sort of playing out in the back of my head for a while. It's dark and sad to begin with, but gets a lot lighter and happier. I really wanted it to be realistic with the way that I picture Ron and Harry actually acting if they were a couple. I tried to not be too out of character for any of them, except that they are a little more mature because they are older. This story does take place after the war and follows the last book, however: it does not (obviously) acknowledge the epilogue. This is a story about the life of Ron and Harry after the war. It is slash and is rated T for language use. I'd really like constructive criticism and reviews, if possible! **

**Okay, so as a disclaimer, I own nothing. Happy reading, lovelies! **

**Chapter 1: All They Wanted  
**

* * *

All they wanted was a child. A child to love. A child that would be actually made from the two of them. Red hair. Green eyes. Heart of a lion. Loveable as all get out.

All they wanted was a child. They shared more love for each other than most people they'd ever met and they could share that love with a child. They could love a child and provide the best family that had ever existed and they wanted to. They wanted a family. They just wanted a child.

So, as they held a little three-hour old baby girl in their arms, rocking her and cooing at her, promising her their love until the end of time, they allowed themselves to revel in the fact that they were getting their child.

And two days later, as the child's birth mother cried, holding one of each of their hands in each of her own, apologizing to them for putting them through it all, Ron Weasley looked at Harry Potter with a blazing look in his eyes, promising silently that they would recover.

All they wanted was a child. But in this world, for these two husbands, a child was not something that they could have.

* * *

"Where are you?" Hermione Granger called as she walked into the flat of her two best friends. "Honestly, boys, I know that you are here. Where are you?" She walked up the small staircase and down the hall to the very last door on the right. She stopped and closed her eyes tightly, holding back her own tears as she listened to the sobbing coming from the other side of the door. She took a deep breath and put her hand on the doorknob. "Boys, I'm coming in."

While it didn't shock her, the sight in front of her made the already large lump in the back of her throat hurt more and she gave in, letting silent tears fall freely while she knelt down on the floor with her arms open wide, wrapping herself around her raven-haired best friend as he completely lost himself. He was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, sheets tangled around him, shirtless wearing only striped pajama pants. He was nothing short of devastated and was holding nothing back at this point. He didn't fight Hermione's hug, but he didn't pull her tighter either.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He's getting rid of everything," Harry whispered as he tried to calm his sobs. Saying this out loud, though, just ended up putting him right back at the start and the sobs were calm no longer. Hermione stood and went to the bathroom through the door adjacent to the door that went to the hallway where she'd entered, grabbing tissues to bring back for Harry. She turned back to re-enter the room, but stopped when she saw the door to hallway open and Ron step into the bedroom. He was also wearing pajama pants, and his plain white v-neck was dusty. Hermione presumed the dust was from the attic where he'd probably taken all of the baby items. In two strides, Ron had reached Harry, sat beside him, and gathered him up into Ron's lap. His face looked haunted and red and his eyes were slightly swollen- from crying, she assumed. He kissed Harry's forehead and rocked them, staring unblinkingly at the wall over Harry's head.

Hermione walked back into the room and again knelt down at the foot of the bed. She put one hand on Ron's shoulder, laying her head on it, and the other hand she slithered to Ron's stomach searching for Harry's hand. He allowed her to hold his hand, but buried his face in Ron's neck, his whole entire body shaking. She leaned up and watched Ron's blank expression as he still stared at the wall. She put her hand on his chin and kissed his cheek. After a moment he finally looked down at her, his eyes full of emotions that Hermione could only try to comprehend. She nodded her head at him, forcing herself to continue staring into his haunted eyes. She tried to ignore the tears as they fell silently from her eyes and down her cheeks. She may have ignored them, but Ron didn't. He closed his eyes and let tears of his own rain down. When he opened them back up he looked again at Hermione's eyes. She wiped his face half-heartedly and stood to remake the large bed that was devoid of sheets and blankets, pillows, and quilts. She raised her wand and allowed her magic to take over. Once the bed was made, she walked back to her best friends and kissed them each on the top of their heads. She left the room, closing the door behind her and retreating back to the front room. She went into the kitchen and sat down at the table, letting herself sob.

She sobbed for the little girl that would never know the life she could have had with the two best fathers in the world. She sobbed at the memory of the look in Ron's eyes. She sobbed at the fact that she couldn't fix this for them, no matter how many books she read. She sobbed for the selfishness that lay within her heterosexual privilege of being able to have children of her own with her partner. She sobbed for the mother that couldn't give up her daughter. But mostly, Hermione Granger sobbed because after years of hell and years of war and after finally saving the world, the only thing in the world her two best friends wanted was a child.


	2. To be a Husband and Father

**Chapter 2: **  
**To be a Husband and Father**

It's funny when you think of it. There are so many people that _can_ have children, yet decide not to and don't even think twice about it. There are so many people that _do _have children and never stop to realize how fortunate they are. But there are also so many couples that _can't _have children, and this fact is ever-present in their lives. Yes, adopting was an option, and it was one that this particular couple was trying to pursue; however, never could a child enter the world with half of the genes of each of them. This was non-negotiable, and while most of the time they pretended not to care, at certain weak moments, Ron and Harry allowed themselves to express their devastation at this sad fact.

They'd decided to call her Lily. They'd been discussing her middle name, (torn because it didn't sound right for her middle name to be Molly, yet they couldn't think of one that fit her better), when Britney had entered the room, crying, and asked if she could talk to them. It had only been two days, but for Ron and Harry it had felt like years. This baby had made her way into their hearts fully and they were okay with it, ready to love her for the rest of their lives.

The birth mother had 72 hours to change her mind. It had only taken 48. It took her 48 hours to break their hearts.

When they'd gotten back to their house, they could only sit in an unsatisfying silence for of silence and not being able to meet each others' eyes. Hours of silence in which they were too stunned to cry or yell. Hours of silence that allowed the pain to set in fully.

Then he felt it. Harry's heart started to break. The pain was atrocious. He grabbed at his chest, face screwed up and breathless from the pain, and he finally started to cry. Without a full second passing Ron had crossed the room to him and wrapped Harry up in his arms. He was sitting with his chest against Harry's back, his arms pulling Harry in as tightly as he could. Harry's hands were still clutching his chest and Ron could feel him shake when he began to weep. Ron tried to hold it together while he held Harry, fearing that he let himself fall apart there would be no one to get them through this. And that's when Ron realized that at this moment, it wasn't about getting through it. It was about falling apart and letting it hurt. So he did. He held Harry and they bawled together. At the back of their minds, they both wondered if they would ever have the strength to try this again.

* * *

They'd been in their room for a day and a half. They hadn't eaten or slept, just cried. For an hour Ron had been lying on his back, staring at the ceiling while Harry lay on his arm in a ball next to him. Ron couldn't stop thinking about how much baby stuff they had in their home. If they did ever make it through this time, they would have to leave their room and they'd be faced with objects meant for their Lily. He stood quietly and moved to the door. Harry shot upright and stared at Ron with a look of defeat.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, his voice raspy from crying.

"I need to get rid of it all. Put it all away somewhere," Ron answered. He new that his voice sounded angry, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was angry. He was devastated.

"Don't do that!" Harry demanded, screwing up his face.

"Harry, we can't just have it around. _I_ can't just have it around," Ron told him defiantly, his eyebrows raised.

"You want to forget her, then? Yeah? That's what you want?" Harry was hurt and he was perfectly aware that he was taking it out on Ron. Ron rubbed his hand over his face and then across the back of his neck. He gave Harry one last look before walking into their hallway. Harry, fists clenched around the blankets and sheets on the bed, stood and walked toward the door after Ron.

"Bastard! You bloody prick!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. He continued to yell, but his sobs swallowed the words and he sunk to the floor at the foot of the bed, sheets and blankets surrounding him while he completely lost it.

Hermione found him not half an hour later. Harry allowed her to offer comfort, but wasn't strong enough to do much more. When Ron re-entered the room, seeing Harry truly broken, he was instantly angry with himself for making it worse. He wasn't surprised when Hermione sat next to him. He knew that she wanted to help, he just didn't know how she could. So after she left the room, Ron picked Harry up and took him back to the bed, thankful Hermione had remade it. He held Harry and allowed himself to hurt.

They finally fell asleep after an hour or so. It had been days since they'd slept, and they were exhausted. Crying can really take the energy out of a person.

* * *

When they woke the next morning after his shower, Ron found Hermione cooking breakfast in their kitchen downstairs. Ron assumed she must have slept in their guest room and silently appreciated her for continuing to be there for himself and Harry. He walked up to her, standing at the stove, placed a kiss on the top of her head, and went to grab a glass of water.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Ron as she turned away from cooking omelets. Ron sat down at the table and looked up at her.

"Having a shower," Ron answered before glancing at the kitchen entrance mindlessly. He knew they should go visit the Burrow today, but he wasn't sure if they actually could. He looked back down at the table and stared at his hands. She'd been in those hands not even three days before. Her tiny little hand had grasped his thumb. He'd kissed her head and fed her a bottle and changed her tiny little diaper. All his life he had been convinced that he'd never be able to be a good father, and yet in two short days, hell within five short minutes, he had been proved completely wrong. She may not have been biologically his or Harry's, but she was theirs in every other way. At least she had been. The second he saw her tiny face and jet-black hair, he'd realized that the only two reasons he was put on this earth was to be Harry's husband and to be a father. Why is it that the moment you realize you can't live without something is the moment it's taken from you? Except Harry. Thank Merlin. The phrase 'other half' was quite literal when it came to his Harry. Without him, Ron simply didn't exist. Without being a father, he'd have to learn to- and hopefully he would with Harry by his side.

Harry walked into the kitchen, Ron's shirt hanging off of his small frame, and the sight made a smile pull at Ron's lips. Harry looked miserable. His eyes were swollen, his face was red, his glasses askew. He searched the room in a dazed state and when his eyes landed on Ron's, his breath caught in his breath and his face screwed up. His body seemed defeated. Ron stood and grabbed him by the shoulders, moving him to the table to sit down.

"It's alright. Come on, sit down. I'll make you some tea," Ron was whispering into Harry's hair as he set him down on the bench at the kitchen table. He made tea quietly and then brought it over to the table.

"Budge over, love," Ron told Harry. Harry complied so that Ron could sit down, but then moved back over so that he could rest his head on Ron's shoulder. Ron smiled as Harry's wet hair sent shivers down his skin. He pointed his wand at Harry's head and dried it instantly, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders to hold him close.

"We should go to the Burrow today. Everyone will want to be seeing us by now. If you're up for it," Ron told Harry softly. Hermione brought the omelets to the table and told the boys to tuck in. Harry reluctantly pulled away from Ron and started to eat. Ron watched Harry carefully, ignoring his food. When Harry matched Ron's gaze, his face looked a little stronger than it had when he'd entered the kitchen.

"Are you up for it?" Harry asked shyly.

"I dunno, do I. I mean, yeah, it would make a bit of sense, but I dunno if I can talk about it," Ron answered, never taking his eyes away from Harry's.

"Ronald, I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind if you took a few more days," Hermione chimed in. Harry sighed heavily and went back to eating. Ron started eating as well, but made a point to keep his eyes on Harry.

"No, we'll go. We can go, Ron," Harry told them. Ron knew he was only agreeing because he thought Ron would need his family. He didn't fight him on it though, instead he fully tucked into his plate and let a comfortable silence settle around the room. He knew it would feel good to see his family today. But it wouldn't make him stop missing his daughter.


	3. Recovering

**Hey everyone, here's the next chapter! I hope you like it! Please leave some reviews about what you think. Constructive criticism welcomed! Happy reading!  
**

Chapter 3  
Recovering

"How are you m'boy?" Arthur Weasley asked his youngest son, pulling him in for a hug. Ron and Harry had just arrived at the Burrow where the whole family was gathered. They were in the kitchen with his parents while the rest of the family and Hermione were in the front room.

"'M fine, thanks, dad," Ron assured his father. He turned to look for Harry and saw that his mother had him wrapped in a Molly Weasley tight hug. He smiled gently and walked over to them, putting a hand on his mother's back gently. She pulled away from the hug with Harry and looked up at Ron. Her eyes were watery like she was about to cry, but Ron knew she'd never actually let tears form in front of her children. She quickly gathered Ron into a hug and he chuckled. "Mum, I'm fine,"

"Ronald Weasley let me be your mother," she told him firmly, pulling him tighter in her arms. Ron watched over her head as his father gave Harry a small hug and pat on the back and exchanged gentle conversation with him.

When they finally retreated back to the front room, each of the family members said their 'hello's and 'how are you holding up's before Ron finally said, "We're starved. Can we eat, by chance?" so that he and Harry could stop being coddled, knowing full well that Harry, just like him, only wanted things to be normal. Harry had given Ron a appreciative look before heading to sit at the table with everyone else.

"So, I made the team! For the Hollyhead Harpies!" Ginny announced as everyone tucked into the meal. She winked at Ron, letting him know that she understood that they didn't want to focus on the obvious and was intentionally changing the subject. Ron smiled gratefully. Everyone congratulated her and after that the family fell back to its comfortable, normal dinner routine.

Later that night when Harry and Ron got back to their flat, their spirits had risen. They had needed family and normalcy. They played a game of wizard's chess before heading to bed, both satisfied with the night.

The next day, Ron woke to find that Harry wasn't in bed. He put on his slippers and left their room, going to see if Harry was in the kitchen. On his way down the hall, he noticed that the nursery door was open. He walked in quietly and found Harry sitting in the rocking chair, staring at the place where the crib had sat before Ron had taken it to the attic. The room was empty except for the chair and a few pictures of Ron and Harry hanging on the walls. One was from their wedding day, one was at a Quidditch match, and one was at a Ministry Christmas party.

Ron walked over to Harry and pulled on his arm to stand up. Once Harry stood, Ron sat in the chair and pulled Harry down to sit on his lap. He rocked back and forth a few times. They stayed in the room for nearly an hour, silence settled comfortably as they both imagined their little Lily and what their life could have been like with her. After a while, Harry sighed heavily. There wasn't discontent in the sigh, just wonder and hope. Ron smiled briefly, allowing himself to realize that they would be trying again. They would find a way to have a child. Because all the hurt in the world was worth it, even for just those two days they'd had with their little Lily. They would try again and again until they got a baby. Because all they wanted was a child. And if there was one thing that Ron knew all the way to the deepest parts of his heart, it was that someday, they would have one.


	4. Dust Yourself Off and Try Again

**Chapter 4  
Dust Yourself off and Try Again  
**

It had taken a few months, but Harry and Ron had found a company that helped with surrogacy for couples that couldn't have kids. There was a quick, magical way of helping the process happen. Their first time there, a rather plump woman with dark brown hair and welcoming eyes had given them a book full of pictures of women willing to have a child for another couple. It was rather expensive, but the boys were willing to spend as much money as it took to have a baby.

A few days later, they'd decided on a small, petite girl with black hair and searing blue eyes called Francesca, whose bangs fell over her eyes just a little. The company put together a meeting and the boys were confident with their choice. She was quirky and the boys felt comfortable around her. She had a good history of health and her mother was a witch, but her father was a Muggle. She'd been born with magical powers, but her sisters hadn't. She said that her sister couldn't have children, so one of her other sisters had been a surrogate and she wanted to give that gift to another deserving couple.

She treated the boys like they were equal, instead of celebrities, which so many other people tended to treat them like. She was funny and smart and her husband, John, treated the boys with quiet respect telling them that he was sorry about their situation. Ron told John that they would never be able to fully thank Francesca and him enough. John looked Ron in the eye and when he spoke, his voice was calm and easy.

"We've got two little ones of our own at home. We've a great little family. I can't imagine not being able to have one. You deserve a family, too, Ron. You and Harry have done a lot for our world and if we can give back in this way, then we will without any hesitation,"

After John had finished talking, Ron found himself leaning forward and grabbing the man into a strong hug. John chuckled and pat Ron on the back. Francesca smiled and squeezed Harry's hand.

"You're good people, you know," Harry told them, appreciation and awe dripping from his tone.

"So are you, Harry. And if the four of us can't pass down to our children the importance of being a good person, who will?" Francesca said lightly, smiling.

They all chuckled.

This would be a good thing.

* * *

The magical procedure was quick and painless. A wand was pointed at both Ron's and Harry's crotches and when a little ball of what looked like static electricity appeared at the wand's end, it was transferred into the middle of Francesca. A warm feeling surrounded her body and then a few moments later, she felt her body accept it. From that moment on, a warmness surrounded her stomach that both boys were able to touch and feel their baby growing. They didn't know which of the boys had created the baby, but they all knew that when the baby was born they'd be able to figure it out judging by whether its hair was dark black or bright orange.

Harry and Ron Potter got extremely close to John and Francesca Milner. They had a little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes and a little girl with black hair and amber eyes. The boy was four and the girl was seven and they were learning how to control their magic, both anxious for Hogwarts. They loved Harry and Ron. The first time they'd met the boys they were seemingly star-struck. They'd heard all about the two men who had defeated Voldemort and had gotten gay-marriage in the magical world to become legal. John and Francesca would let their children know that Harry and Ron were just normal guys who liked to fly and play Quidditch and wizard's chess. It only took about a fortnight for the children to become comfortable with the two men.

Harry and Ron loved the kids and got along well with Francesca and John. They enjoyed having another couple to spend time with. After two months, Ron finally allowed the rest of the Weasley clan to meet the small family. He'd been afraid that the large family would overwhelm them, but the Milners fit right in and enjoyed each and every family member.

It was all becoming real. Their Healer said they'd be able to find out the sex of the baby during the 18th week and the whole family was ecstatic and anxious to find out. Harry and Ron allowed themselves to fall all the way in love with their unborn baby. This baby was theirs. There were no 72-hour take-backs or questions. This baby was their own and they were completely in love with it.

Neither of the boys ever talked about Lily anymore. But in their bathroom, hidden behind the side mirror above the sink, was a small little photograph of her. Harry was holding her gently, all wrapped up in her big pink blanket and Ron stood behind Harry. In the photo, Ron would lean down and rub her cheek gently and then kiss Harry's head and Harry would smile and stare at her and then absent-mindedly fix her blanket and rearrange her in his arms like it was second nature. Each morning, each of the men would stare at the photo, just for a moment, to remember their daughter. They'd hope that she was being taken care of and loved and they'd hope that she'd someday be told about them and how much they had loved her.


	5. Another Try Gone Bad

**A/N: Hi, all. So I'll be getting the chapters out a little bit faster now that I've finished school. This chapter is rather short, but there's another one soon to come (aka later on today). Read and review, please! Happy Reading!  
**

**Chapter 5  
Another try gone bad**

All they wanted was a child. So when they a certain Milner popped his head in through their fire, frantic yet forcing an odd calm, their hearts sank.

Francesca had lost the baby. It was days before they'd be able to find out the sex. Harry never made it to St. Mungo's. Hermione and Ginny had gone with Ron, but there was nothing for anyone to do. Looking as devastated as he felt, Francesca wept her apologies to Ron again and again. Ron tried to reassure her, letting her know that it wasn't her fault and they didn't blame her. He tried to hold it back, but a sob escaped every few minutes, Ron feeling as though his heart was physically breaking.

Ron tried to stay at St. Mungo's for as long as he could, trying to offer his new friends comfort. Francesca had lost the baby due to her acquiring ovarian cancer. Ron felt horribly for her, knowing that she felt as terrible about it all as he did. After only an hour or so, Ron had to retreat back home. The sadness in the hospital was overwhelming him, and trying to stay strong and not cry in front of everyone was exhausting.

"The Universe is telling us something," Harry had said to Ron when he'd gone back to their home and climbed into their bed where the raven-haired man lay staring at the ceiling. Ron could hear the tears, the hurt in Harry's words. He reached over and grabbed his husband's hand and squeezed it hard. Harry dropped his head to the side to look at Ron. His green eyes were bloodshot. Ron met his gaze and screwed up his face, allowing himself to finally bawl and let out how he really felt. Harry scooted himself closer to his distraught husband and grabbed the larger man into his arms, rocking them slowly.

Neither man could believe that this was happening again.

The ovarian cancer had caused Francesca to lose not only Ron and Harry's baby, but also her own fertility. She'd spent a week at St. Mungo's and had contemplated treatment options. In the end, she'd chosen a magical treatment that took place bi-monthly. At the end of ten months they would remove her uterus completely. Devastated as she'd been, she had pushed through it with a positive attitude, grateful that she had two wonderful children already. Ron and Harry, not blaming her by any means, had kept their friendship with the Milner family strong. They were heartbroken, but they had gained true and honest friends that neither man was ready to give up.

After a few days, 'We're thinking of you,' balloons were delivered to Ron and Harry's home from the surrogate company they'd used to find Francesca. Harry and Ron were both glad that they hadn't started to unpack Lily's baby things. They'd wanted to wait to decorate the nursery until they could find out the sex of the baby. In a way, not knowing whether it had been a boy or a girl had helped them recover. The Weasley family tried to help them heal again, taking turns with providing meals and checking in on the boys. It felt routine to everyone from them all having done it before. Bill and Fleur came one night to check in and make dinner, assuring the boys that it would all work out.

"Having a family is worth the pain. The Universe isn't telling you something, Harry, it's just making sure you want it bad enough. It's testing you to make sure you want a child bad enough to go through the heart ache and try again," Bill had told Harry over a glass of Firewhiskey after supper.

Once they'd gone, Harry and Ron sat on the sofa and stared at the fire for a while.

"I don't want to give up, Harry," Ron had confessed nervously after a while.

"I don't think I can try again, Ron," Harry admitted apologetically.


	6. 3rd Time's A Charm

**Chapter 6  
3rd Time's A Charm**

It had been four months since Francesca had lost the baby. Harry was in the kitchen, having breakfast and reading the morning paper. He put down his copy of the Daily Prophet and grabbed a biscuit, watching his redheaded husband carefully. Ron walked to the sink and filled up their teapot, putting it on the stove and then standing above it, waiting for it to heat up.

"Things happen faster when you aren't pressuring them, love. That water is only going to take longer to boil if you stand over it and stare," Harry told him, amusement lining his tone.

Ron abruptly turned and leaned his back against the stove, focusing his stare on the ground.

"Love?" Harry's voice hung in the air, silence answering him. There was a loud crack from the front room, so Harry stood up slowly, moving to Ron and placing a hand on his shoulder. When he received no response, he leaned up and kissed Ron's temple lightly, turning to the door to see who'd just arrived.

"Morning, mate," John Milner greeted Harry, offering a warm smile. Harry returned the smile, whole-heartedly, glad to see his friend.

"Morning, John. Francesca coming?"

"She'll be right along. Getting the kids together, you know," John told Harry as they shared a small hug. "Ron in the loo?"

"No, poor bloke's in the kitchen. Reeling about something, I s'pose, though I haven't been informed as to what, yet," Harry chuckled. "Come on in for some tea,"

John put his hands up gently, gesturing his decline. "In a mo', Harry, you go talk to that Ron of yours and I'll wait up for Francesca and the kids. We'll be right in,"

Harry nodded and smiled again, retreating back to the kitchen where Ron remained in the exact same place as when Harry had left. Harry walked up to the redhead slowly and grabbed at one of his hands, rubbing their fingers together. "Fancy letting me in on what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?"

Ron finally met Harry's gaze. "I still want to try again, Harry,"

Harry tried not to let the pain show in his eyes. It was his turn to look at the floor. He felt Ron tug at his hand and closed his eyes tightly before pushing away his pain and meeting his husband's gaze. "I know, Ron," he said, defeat and pain evident in his every word.

"Harry, I know it's mad. I know it sucks when we get our hopes up. But I just think we won't get our hopes up this time. We _deserve_ a baby, Harry. We _deserve_ a family," Ron was desperate and determined. He didn't flinch when he saw a tear fall from Harry's left eye, he just wiped it away. "Harry, I've got a new plan. We just need to talk to Hermione and Ginny,"

Francesca walked into the kitchen and swiftly went over to the boys. She grabbed them both into a hug. "Harry, it's got to work sometime. There are no two people in the world better suited to be parents than the two of you. And it's a good idea this time. Better than another adoption and better suited for _you_ than another surrogate like me,"

Ron rubbed Francesca's back in a quiet 'thanks'. Harry cried into their hug for a few moments, letting it all soak in.

"Come on, love, it's worth just hearing them out, yeah?" Ron persisted. Harry took a deep breath and shook his head lightly before whispering a soft, 'okay', under his breath. Ecstatic, Ron nearly jumped for joy, pulling his husband into his arms and kissing him lightly. "Cheers, love. We won't do it if you don't want to, yeah? Just hear them out,"

Harry was led into the front room where John sat on one sofa, one remained empty, and Hermione and Ginny sat on the other. Francesca joined her husband and Ron led Harry over to the empty one. Harry sat down cautiously, looking back at Francesca who offered her friend a tender smile.

"Harry, I've been doing a lot of research over the past few months. After you and Ron came out to the Wizarding community and made homosexuality an acceptable lifestyle, Healers from around the world started to experiment with ways in which same-sex couples can have children together. Most same-sex couples around the world have chosen adoption, though some have chosen the surrogate-route. Look, it isn't one hundred percent affective quite yet, but they've come up with a way to magic together the genes of the partners. You and Ron could have a child of your own, Harry, just your genes and his, no one else's. Yes, a surrogate would still be necessary, but she would merely carry the child, and after speaking with Ginny-" Hermione was interrupted.

"I want to do, Harry. I want to help you and Ron have a baby. What better way to show my niece or nephew that I love them other than to carry them for nine months?" Ginny was giving Harry a blazing look that showed him she was serious. Harry shook his head, overwhelmed. Ron forced Harry to look at him directly.

"Do you understand, love?" Ron asked. "You and I can have a baby. Our _own_ baby. Our _own_ family, Harry,"

Harry felt a warm tear on his cheek and then looked back at Hermione, catching her eye. He knew his face looked defeated, hope shining dully in his eyes. "You said it isn't one hundred percent affective,"

Hermione smiled warmly. "Every person that has done it so far has been able to hold a child of their own in nine months time. There just hasn't been enough research on it all for them to stand behind it a hundred percent. And if you did this, Harry, if you and Ron tried this and it didn't work, it doesn't do any harm. It takes you no further than you are right now. We will just see where it goes and see if it happens and we will try to not get our hopes up too high, knowing full well that it might not work. But if it does…"

"I think it'd be damn well worth a try, then, yeah?" John chipped in, sincerely, a smile on his lips. Francesca squeezed his arm, telling him silently not to butt in, though as she did so, she offered Harry a look of encouragement and hope.

Ron chuckled, pulling Harry tighter to his side. "You don't have to decide now, mate. We've all the time in the world,"

Ginny got up from the sofa and knelt at Harry feet. She took his hand in hers and let them rest on Harry's knees. She looked up into his eyes, that same blazing look burning a hole right down to his soul. _This will work_ she was telling him. His face softened and he took a deep breath. He looked up at Ron and gazed into his eyes. "Let's do it,"

* * *

The procedure with Ginny was much the same as was the previous one with Francesca, though the balls of electricity from Harry and Ron joined as one before entering Ginny's middle. They'd discussed the idea of doing a concealment charm on Ginny, being that they weren't keen on telling the family just yet, trying to keep getting their hopes up to a minimum.

"There's enough going against this pregnancy as it is, we don't need to add on unnecessary charms and spells that could possible help ruin it," Harry insisted.

No one fought with him on it, and in the end it didn't matter because Ginny didn't end up showing until her fifth month along, at which time the boys were ready to tell the family.

Francesca was in her last month of treatment before the removal of her uterus and was completely exhausted. A fortnight earlier, she'd been given the instructions of bed rest by her Healers. Fully considered part of the family, Harry and Ron wanted the Milners to be present when they told the family over supper. Francesca's well-being meant more, though, so the boys visited her that afternoon, confessing their nerves about telling the family that evening.

"It'll seem more real, you know? Like, now it's just some possibility that may or may not actually happen, but if everyone knows, then it's like it's real," Ron admitted, sitting up next to Francesca in the bed. Harry stood next to the bed, throwing Jacob (Francesca's four year old son) up into the air and then catching him, smiling at the fit of giggles coming from the boy. Francesca and Ron watched Harry for a moment and then shared a look. Francesca squeezed Ron's hand lightly and smiled, telling him silently that it would all be okay.

* * *

"That's brilliant," Bill said loudly, a broad smile across his face as he pulled Harry and then Ron into a strong hug.

"Ees eet a boy or a girl, 'Arry?" Fleur asked happily as she gave them each a hug.

"Er…we don't want to know," Harry admitted nervously. He chanced a glance at his husband who smiled gently.

"If it doesn't end well, it's easier to recover if we don't know the sex. Just from experience," Ron explained with a small chuckle to lighten the mood.

Mr. Weasley folded them each into a hug, his cheeks red with excitement, his eyes glowing. Mrs. Weasley, however, stayed seated, seemingly dumb-struck and not happy.

"Mum?" Ginny called.

Mrs. Weasley met Ginny's gaze and then turned her eyes to glare at the boys in a very stern manner, though Ron could see the nervousness and hope that lined her expression and showed through her eyes. "Boys, you'll be heartbroken. This is the third try this year,"

Ginny walked slowly to where Mrs. Weasley was seated and grabbed her mother's hand, placing it lightly on her stomach. Tears formed in Mrs. Weasley's eyes and she looked around the room to find her husband's. He walked swiftly to her side and pulled her into a hug, whispering into her hair.

That was the moment that Harry and Ron realized that the loss of their own children had affected more than just the two of them. They walked slowly to Ron's parents and enveloped them into a hug.

Damn hopes. No matter how many anchors and weights they attached to the bottom of them, they still seemed to lift too high.

**Needless to say, please review! I'll add another chapter later on today or tomorrow :)**


	7. The Potters

**This is the last chapter to this story, though I might consider doing a sequel, if anyone wanted me to. Let me know what you think by leaving a review! Happy reading and hope you enjoyed the story :)  
**

**Chapter 7  
The Potters**

All they wanted was a child. And finally, they had one.

He was so sweet and small. He had bright orange hair and green eyes. He was a week old and laid in his crib, wrapped up tightly in his blue blanket as his fathers stood watching him. They'd called him Liam Albus Potter. They thought the name 'Liam' would complement the sister he never had the pleasure to meet.

Ron had never felt more honored in his life than the moment he could be called a dad. He'd never seen his husband more happy. They'd decorated the nursery with elephants, using the colors light blue and dark navy. He slept usually in their room, but sometimes during the day they would lay him in his large crib in his nursery to get him used to it.

Ginny had gone straight back to training, a new season of Quidditch just around the bend, but they were eternally indebted to her. She loved her nephew and was proud that she'd been able to help her brother and brother-in-law with something so amazing.

Ron looked across the crib at Harry, smiling at the raven-haired man's expression of complete love. Liam sputtered and his face got red and screwed up, his lip quivering and Ron chuckled, reaching in and pulling his son into his arms. He rocked him lightly and started to retreat from the room, Harry putting his arm around Ron's waist and walking with him down to the kitchen. Harry put together a bottle of formula and warmed it with his wand, checking the temperature on his wrist before handing it to Ron, who was now seated on the sofa in the front room.

Flames came to life in their fireplace and neither looked up as Francesca walked into their front room. She pulled out a camera and took a picture of them, Ron holding the baby and feeding him the bottle as Harry sat beside him, rubbing Ron's back and staring down at their son. Ron looked up and smiled a hello at Francesca.

"Feeling better, then?" Harry asked her.

"Loads. No cancer can beat this woman," she told them, smiling brightly.

Both men chuckled and glanced up lightly as the flames erupted again.

"Jessica, wash your hands first," John told his daughter as he stepped out of the fire, reaching forward to where she had stepped out before him. He had a sleepy Jacob in his arms, the little boy's face hidden in John's neck. Jessica sighed and sulked to the kitchen.

"She wants to hold the baby," John explained to the rest of the adults and then laughed lightly. When the little girl returned, she was bouncy and excited. She sat down carefully between Harry and Ron. Harry gently pulled her frizzy black hair away from her face and tied it with an elastic band at her back. She held out her arms cautiously and strongly, remembering how they'd taught her. Ron gently placed Liam into Jessica's arms, but held the bottle up, knowing it would be a little too much for Jessica to focus on all of it. John retreated to Harry and Ron's guest room to deposit his sleeping son.

A knock on the door sounded through the house and Francesca got up to answer it. She knew that Harry or Ron getting up from the sofa might startle her young daughter. She opened it expectantly, thinking it would be one of the Weasleys. Instead, she found a little girl with wild black hair and bright blue eyes, sitting in a stroller, sucking her thumb, staring up at her. Assuming the little girl must have been about two years of age she was shocked, looking around outside to see where the girl's parents were. The little girl was holding a small piece of paper in one of her chunky little fists. Francesca bent down so that she was eye level with the little girl.

"Hi, there," she said lightly. The little girl blinked at her. "Where are your mummy and daddy?" she asked more to herself than the child, knowing full well that the little girl was much too young to be speaking full sentences.

"Daddy?" the little girl whispered. Francesca leaned in and gently pulled the piece of paper from the little girl's hand. It was a birth certificate. Francesca gasped when she saw the name. 'Lily Ginevra Potter'.

"Hello?" Francesca stood back up and called out to the street, desperately, hoping that this little girl's mother was around somewhere.

Harry walked up behind her and placed a hand on her back, questioningly. "Francesca?"

She shook her head incredulously. Slowly, she moved sideways so that Harry could see what lay on the other side of the door. Harry let out a sound she'd never heard before, like a cry had been caught in his throat. He knew those eyes. He'd stared at those eyes in a picture hidden behind a mirror in his bathroom every single day for the last nearly two years. He glanced frantically around outside to see if Britney was there.

"Ron!" he cried desperately, his eyes watery and his whole body shaking with nerves and fear and excitement. He bent down and unlatched the buckle on the stroller, lifting his daughter up and into his arms, squeezing her tightly to him, kissing her face and her head and holding onto her for dear life. He felt her legs wrap around his middle and let out an exasperated laugh, still shaking wildly.

"Harry?" Ron asked, confused. Harry turned to face Ron, his face stained from tears of confusion and happiness. When Ron saw Lily in his husband's arms, his legs gave out and he fell in a thump to the floor, his knees hitting the ground hard. He held his stomach, thinking he might be sick. Harry knelt down beside him and pulled him into the embrace with their daughter. Together they stayed on the floor, crying and holding their little Lily, shaking uncontrollably and wishing upon Merlin that it was all real.

* * *

_I thought I could do it but I can't. I'm sorry for taking her from you, but you really are her real parents. I just can't do it. Take care of her for me, -Brit_

Harry didn't know whether to be angry or happy. Of course he was ecstatic that they'd gotten their daughter, after all, but they'd missed her first nearly two years of life. She'd have to grow up without her real mother or father. She'd have questions they feared they'd never be able to answer.

For the first fortnight, she'd been very confused. She'd cry throughout the night and sometimes would refuse to eat. There were times when Harry and Ron wondered if she was afraid of them. She'd look at them as though she was trying to decide what to think of them. They knew she could say at least a few words, but she was too uncomfortable and confused to say them for a while. Her walking seemed to be behind schedule as it looked as though no one had ever worked on it with her or encouraged her. Those were the moments that Ron and Harry felt both devastated- that she hadn't been loved enough in her first twenty months- as well as relieved that she'd been returned to them so that they could change it and love her more than any little girl had ever been loved.

After a month, she was completely comfortable with them. She was their daughter and she knew it. She'd gotten the hang of walking, but never seemed to stop, getting into all sorts of things. She loved her baby brother and she always tried to take care of him. Sometimes, she would go up to one of her fathers and say, "Lee, poopoo," to let them know that Liam needed his diaper changed. She called him 'Lee'. She called Ron 'Papa' and Harry 'Dadda'. She ruled their little house, having each of her fathers wrapped around her sweet, tiny little finger.

Each night, Harry and Ron would bathe their daughter and sit her in their bed with them. Ron would comb her wild hair and Harry would feed their son a bottle as he laid there in his little blue outfits, staring up at them all in wonder, his orange hair and green eyes always reminding Harry of his own mother. Lily would stroke Liam's face protectively and give him kisses before falling asleep on Ron's chest and Liam on Harry's. The fathers would deposit their children into their respective beds and would curl up together in their own bed, marveling at how perfectly their life had turned out. They'd discuss the 'big-girl-bed' they needed to pick out for Lily's second birthday next month or the clothes that needed to be boxed up that Liam had outgrown. They'd discuss their hopes and dreams for their children and they'd re-confess their love for each other.

All they wanted was a child. A child to share their love with. A child to start their family. And each morning as their son would cry his good-morning and their daughter would wait patiently to be picked up from her crib, they would sit and bask in the knowledge that they'd finally gotten all they'd wanted and more.

**Fin!**


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